


GSWs & Sutures

by weathered_spice



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Minor Violence, Protective Rio (Good Girls), Rio (Good Girls) Being an Asshole, Rio is a softie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2020-05-02 03:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19190890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weathered_spice/pseuds/weathered_spice
Summary: A different take on Rio's first meeting with the girls.This time, there's a fourth.  An ER resident in training is at the wrong place at the wrong time, over for wine with the girls, when Rio shows up with his gun and his boys. She wasn't part of the Fine & Frugal debacle, but she's seen Rio and that's enough for her to be on the hook. Yet, when a mysterious figure threatens her, Rio's protective side comes out.





	1. Chapter 1

I kept my head down as I walked into the warehouse. _Eyes to the floor, don’t look around._ I shuffled forward, surrounded on all sides by _his boys_. They weren’t as scary as I once thought. Besides, now they were shepherding me around to act as protection, rather than to intimidate me. I shivered in my scrubs, the long sleeved turtleneck I had on underneath them doing nothing to keep me warm. I tugged at the neck, pulling it up. Covering up.

 

“You okay, Miss?”

 

I nodded at the floor. I felt their eyes linger on my back as I pushed open the door to the office. A desk sat in the center of the room, with him sitting behind it, leaning back in his desk chair, surveying the women sat in front of him. Beth, Ruby, and Annie were arguing with him, again. I took a seat beside them, and felt his eyes flick to me. They continued to argue, and I continued to feel the weight of his eyes on me. I should pay attention. I should figure out what the problem was. I should.

 

I couldn’t. My mind was filled with the events of last night. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Replaying it in my head. I twisted my hands together in my lap, a nervous habit I had yet to get rid of.

 

His eyes were still on me.

 

I chanced a look.

 

He was looking at me intently, and I could only hold his gaze for a few seconds before I looked back to the floor. Looked to the side at his boys. Looked out the windows of the office. Anywhere but him. He was still looking at me.

 

It was too loud. The arguing voices beside me. The workers outside the office, washing the money. They were yelling at each other, talking, laughing. I could hear the clangs of machinery. Overwhelming didn’t begin to describe the situation.

 

His eyes were still on me. I could feel it.

 

A loud crash echoed outside, and I flinched so hard my neck ached. I surveyed the room again, looking around the factory through the office windows, my breath picking up, my heart beating too loudly in my chest. No one else seemed to notice the noise. His boys continued to check their phones, the workers continued with their tasks. No one was coming towards the office. It was okay. I was safe. I felt goosebumps blossoming under the material of my turtleneck. I shivered, and looked up, ignoring the ache in my neck - had he noticed my reaction?

 

He had.

 

His eyes were on mine, holding me in place. Questioning. He raised an eyebrow. I grasped my elbows, shrugged, looked away. He read me too easily. It was best not to maintain eye contact.

By this point, I was convinced he could read my mind just by looking at my eyes.

 

Shifting, rustling beside me. The girls were leaving. As they passed me, they murmured their goodbyes, squeezing my shoulder as they left. I got out of my seat in front of the desk, my eyes still carefully trained on the floor, as I started to follow them out of the room.

 

Rio called out when I was in the doorway.

 

“Stay.”

 

I turned back to look at him, questioning. “I don’t need you in the field today.” he explained.

 

He pointed to an armchair in the corner, a worn blanket thrown across it.

 

“You’re gonna stay here, darlin’. In case we need you.”

 

I bit the inside of my cheek. I didn’t want to stay in this room with him. He would figure it out. He read me too easily. It was too difficult to hide my thoughts from him. I was banking on working the field today, tending to the wounds his boys incurred on their “jobs”. I’d almost grown to like it - it was good practice for the ER. Gunshot wounds were common in the ER, and with the practice I’d been getting lately, I was more efficient in dealing with them.

 

I didn’t want to stay.

 

I stared at the floor as I made my way to the chair. I felt his eyes on me for another second, and then it was back to business. He started talking to his boys, speaking quickly, in shorthand that I didn’t understand. I pulled my textbook from my purse, flipping to the newest chapter I hadn’t read yet. Minutes turned into hours, and finally, I started to relax. Rio wasn’t paying attention to me. Maybe I’d become better at concealing my thoughts from him. He continued to talk with his boys, talking on the phone, laughing, speaking quickly, threatening at times. He didn’t scare me anymore either. Not as much. He wouldn’t hurt us. He threatened at times, but Beth put him in his place. He wouldn’t hurt us. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t make our lives a living hell.

 

If I was being honest, I’d gotten the better end of the deal. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t steal from him. I just happened to be in the house that first time he came in, brandishing that stupid gold gun, his boys looking menacing. I wasn’t part of the grocery store robbery. I was just their friend.

 

But I had seen his face. I was a witness. And that meant he wanted me on the hook too. He knew how much the girls meant to me. He knew that threatening them would keep me in place.

 

When we first met, I was wearing my scrubs, and he’d asked. “So are you a doctor or what?” I’d been so scared at the time my words wavered as I’d replied. “I’m a physician, yes. But I’m still in training.” He had stared at me for a moment, mulling my words over. “I can use that. You want to help your friends? Then you help me.” And I’d nodded, not thinking it through, not even pausing.

 

And I was on the hook.

 

A crash. This time so loud, I felt the glass in the windows rattle. I started, clutching the blanket around me as my head whipped around, trying to take in as much info as possible, looking out the window. One of the machines had fallen over. I look at the door, worried it would burst open at any moment. My heart thumped in my chest. His boys were still there, still looking at their phones. Oblivious.

 

I was more concerned about Rio. He didn’t miss much. Had he noticed?

 

He’d noticed. _Again._

 

I met his gaze, and he looked worried for a second, his brow furrowed. I turned back to my book, trying to read again, learning about breech deliveries. Maybe if I ignored him, he would ignore me. He had more important things to occupy his mindspace than my sudden jumpiness.

I stared at the page intently, willing the information into my head, but knowing it was useless. I wasn’t going to learn anything today. Again, the events of last night flashed through my head. A tattooed hand reached out and closed my book.

 

I looked up to find Rio standing in front of me, towering, his eyes unreadable.

 

His voice was low, and soft. “What’s wrong?”

 

I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I opted to stare at his chest instead. “Nothing.”

 

“Nothing?” he sounded angry now.

 

I shook my head quickly.

 

His boys were looking at us now. The words from last night echoed “ _tell no one_ ”.

 

He bent, placing his hands on the armrests, bringing his face down close to mine. Towering over me. Trying to scare me by moving into my personal space. I wouldn’t let him bully me. _He doesn’t scare me._ I forced myself to look at him. “I’m fine.” My voice cracked on the last word, giving me away. His boys were staring now, looking at each other questioningly.

 

Rio sighed.

 

He grabbed my book, turned quickly, and tossed it onto his desk. Then he took hold of my wrist and pulled me to my feet so quickly I almost stumbled into him. His other hand went to my elbow, steadying me for a millisecond, before he was turning, dragging me behind him as he pulled me through the doorway of the room, past his men, out into the workshop area, past his workshops, down a hallway I’d never noticed before. And he was opening a door to a closet, and pulling me in behind him, reaching past me to close the door. He was close to me. Too close. An inch of space between us. I tried to step back, give myself some space, and felt my back press against the wall.

 

I crossed my arms tightly against my chest, trying to create a barrier between us. I stared at his chest.

 

His voice was low, almost dangerous. “Look at me.”

 

I shook my head slightly, and felt his finger at my chin, lifting my face to look at his. I flinched again, my hand going to my neck, trying to soothe the soreness.

 

He looked confused for a second, before his hand moved from my chin to the top of my turtleneck, tugging it down, exposing my neck, the purple, and dark red mess, the imprints of hands stamped clearly on my skin.

 

A muscle in his jaw jumped. His fingers brushed lightly against the bruises, and I couldn’t help the shiver that ran through me at his soft touch. I bit my cheek, inwardly cursing myself for not having control when he was around.

 

“I want a name.” He sounded angry. Furious. I looked at him, and shook my head.

 

“Don’t bullshit me.”

 

“I don’t - I don’t know who it was, okay? They wore a mask.” my voice came out in a whisper, my voice hoarse, a sharp juxtaposition against his velvet one.

 

“I want to know what happened.”

 

I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want him to see how scared I was. “It was last night, maybe 1am? I was getting some water, and then she came out of nowhere. I don’t know how she got in, I made sure all the doors were locked. She had a mask on. She, uh, she pushed me against the wall, and she um-” I took a breath, trying to steady myself.

 

His hands came up beside my shoulders, pushing against the door behind me. He was trying to cage me, to frighten me into telling him everything.

 

I stared at his throat, the tattoos crawling their way up his neck. I reached a hesitant finger and traced along one of the thick blue lines, so similar in colour to the bruises on my neck.

 

“We match,” I whispered quietly as my hand returned to its place by my side.

 

He stepped in closer, his mouth pressing into a tight line at my attempted joke, his eyes growing darker. _Get on with it_.

 

I shifted my eyes back down to his throat, finding the design to be calming, rather than frightening. Deep breaths. “She was yelling, a lot. I didn’t understand what she was saying at first.” He swallowed and I watched his adam’s apple bob up and down. “She said I should stay away from you. She said you belonged with her. That I was just a distraction, and that-” I halted abruptly, my cheeks flaming. My eyes dropped to my shoes and I tried to push back against the door, create some space between us. He stepped closer. I couldn’t breathe. I gasped in shaky breaths, each one singeing my throat on the way down. His hands dropped from the door to his pockets, one fluid motion. He leaned forward, until his lips were just a hair from my ear. “And what?” His voice was silky, it was velvet, and it was harsh at the same time. Throaty. Angry. I stared at the wall opposite, my face burning red with embarrassment. “She said that you just wanted me for sex.” Another shaky breath by me, a low chuckle from him. He wasn’t amused. It was angry. He leaned back, looked at me, looked at my neck. His irritation was building. “She was getting angry. She grabbed me,” I gestured to my neck, “and she started squeezing, and I couldn’t breathe, and she was yelling that I shouldn’t tell anyone, and then I blacked out. That’s it. That’s what happened.”

 

He reached a hand back up to my neck, stopping just short, at my collarbone, still visible through the thin material of my stupid turtleneck. He touched the bony prominence there, so lightly I almost didn’t feel it. He nodded almost to himself, staring right into my soul the whole time.

 

“Play along, darlin’.” he said in a low voice.

 

And with that, he reached behind me and opened the door, pushing us both back out into the workspace. I stumbled backwards, disoriented by the sudden change in volume, the clanging of the machines frightening me again. _Stupid, stupid._ His arm snaked around my waist, keeping me level, and I briefly wondered at the strength hidden in this lean man. Even when I regained my footing, his arm stayed firmly around my back, pressing me into him. My hands were somehow on his chest, trying to push him away but he didn’t budge. “What are you doing?” I whispered. He leaned, his mouth close to my ear, his stubble tickling my cheek. “Play. Along.”

 

He pulled away then, so fast, I was left scatterbrained. He turned to the warehouse and whistled once, long and loud. His arm was still around me, and I was still too close to him, my traitorous hands refusing to budge from his chest, too pulled in by the warmth he radiated. If I was being honest, I would admit that here, standing this close to Rio, I felt safe.

 

But I couldn’t be honest. Not with him.

 

The workers all turned and the clanging of the machinery stopped with Rio’s whistle. Everyone turned to face him - _us_ \- their eyes flitting between the two of us and how we were linked together. He spoke loudly and clearly, his voice full of authority. “This,” he pulled me in even closer to him, “is my woman. You treat her with respect, or you’re out. Got it?” A pause. He turned to me, his eyes dark, before leaning down and pressing his lips to mine. My chest dropped. His lips were so soft. My cheeks heated. My hands went limp against his chest. My eyes dropped closed. My mind went blank.

 

This. Was. My. Safe Place. In his arms. I heard a few whistles. I was safe.

 

He pulled away after a moment, and I came back down to earth. And everything crashed down with me. The enormity of what just happened, and its consequences, thundered down around me. I stared at him in shock. This was the _opposite_ of what I needed. He released my body from his but took hold of my hand, pulling me behind his as we walked through the workspace, displaying our “relationship” to anyone who happened to look at us. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, while I internally panicked. Once the door to his office closed behind us, I whipped my hand out of his. “Why would you do that?” I wanted to sound angry, I wanted to shout, but my voice sounded frail, and scared. “Do you want me dead? Is that it? Because you basically just confirmed what she said last night. Now she knows that we’re ‘together’, and she knows that I told you what happened. She’s going to come back for me. She’s going to finish what she started.” I crossed the room, practically running for the chair that held my textbooks and jacket. “I don’t understand,” I muttered. I shrugged my jacket on, sticking the  textbook into my purse and slinging it across my body. I made a move for the door, but he caught me. I stared at him, and he had his poker face on. “What?” I shrugged out of his grip, crossing my arms in front of me. “Why would you do that? Do you want me out? Because all you had to do was ask.”

 

He ran a hand over his face, looking tired. “You’ll be fine.”

 

I balked, “How’s that?”

 

“I’m putting you under my protection.”

 

I looked at _his boys_ outside, “I already have them with me. And, no offence, but last night still happened despite them.”

 

He shook his head, chuckling that throaty chuckle that made my chest drop. “ _My_ protection.” he said, gesturing to himself. “I go where you go.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I muttered.

 

He quirked an eyebrow, and his phone rang, breaking the charged atmosphere that had developed in the tiny office. After speaking into it for a few seconds, he closed it and looked at me. “Ready to go?”

 

I was always left confused by him. “Go where?”

 

“One of my guys got shot. I need you to keep him from dying. You good?” 

 

I nodded, already pulling my hair back into a bun, and rolling up my sleeves. I pulled my Medical-Go bag from its hiding spot under the desk and followed Rio out into the parking lot. I wasn’t a car person, but I knew the sleek, black car in the lot was something to be impressed by. I sat in the passenger seat, instantly regretting my decision when I saw how confined the car was, how close I would be to him. He got into his seat and I stared straight ahead, my lips still tingling from the staged kiss. 

 

As we sped through the city, I couldn’t stop myself from sneaking glances at him. He stared at the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the window, the picture of ease. He didn’t seem too perturbed by our kiss. It was staged, of course he wouldn’t be reeling from it. I cursed inwardly. Why was I so drawn to him?

 

We got to the site in 20 long minutes, and then I was out of the car, running over to his boys. The one who was shot looked to be in his thirties, shaven head, more tattooed than Rio. The bullet had been a through-and-through, thank god. I got to work quickly, quickly sterilizing the wound, and suturing up the holes in his skin. The poor guy was moaning and I looked up at Rio, who was crouched down across from me, staring at me intently. “Can you pass me the morphine and syringe?” He nodded, passing me the supplies, his face still unreadable, still staring at me. I slipped the needle under the man’s skin, hoping to give him some pain relief. I was happy with my suture job, the wound was superficial, I wasn’t worried about any internal organ damage. I finished placing the gauze over the wounds and looked up to find Rio still staring at me. 

 

“What is it?” I asked, feeling suddenly self conscious. Medicine was the thing I knew I was good at it, and now he was making me question my abilities. He shook his head, chuckling, “Nothing, ma. I’m just impressed.” I bit my lip to keep a smile from spreading across my face. Why did praise from a crime boss mean this much?

 

When I finished my patch up, Rio and another man lifted the semi-conscious man into the back of a large SUV, also, glossy black. Rio shut the door to the back and turned to me, gesturing to his own car. We walked silently, and Rio pulled the Med-Go bag from my grip. Normally, I would have fought him for it, after all, I’d been carrying it for weeks on end, I was used to its weight, but I was tired from the previous night’s events. Getting strangled seemed to have a fatiguing effect.  _ Who knew. _

 

We stopped at the passenger door, and when I went to open the door he stopped me. He was standing so close. Too close. He reached a hand up and peeled down the neck of my turtleneck, his eyes studying the bruises carefully. “You okay?” he murmured, and I forgot how to breathe for a second. 

 

“Hm?” I couldn’t think properly. Thoughts refused to form coherent lines inside my muddled brain when his hands were on me. His fingers were rough, but he touched me with such care that I felt  _ safe _ . I was so obvious. My feelings were so obvious. I had to be more careful around him. It wouldn’t help if he knew how I felt. It would just complicate everything. 

 

He ran his fingers over the bruises lightly, and I snapped back to reality. “It’s fine. I’m just sore. And my voice sounds funny.” My trachea had taken a beating from the masked figure last night. It left my voice hoarse and throaty. I sounded like a toad. He swallowed, and a muscle in his jaw jumped, his hands returning to his pockets. He reached behind me and opened the passenger door. “Nah,” he murmured after a moment, “It doesn’t.” I slid into my seat, confused by his pause, by his demeanor. 

 

He slid into the driver's seat and we pulled out of the lot quickly, and soon we were on the road again. This time, the radio was softly playing in the background. 

 

I felt his eyes on me and looked over at him. He shifted to stare out at the road. “What is it?” I asked.

 

He ran an angry hand through his short hair. “Got a business meeting tonight.” 

 

I was confused. “And that’s bad because?”

 

“I need you there.”

 

I laughed and stopped when I realized he was serious. I crossed my arms so he wouldn’t see my fingers shaking. “No.” I shook my head, turning away from him to look out the window. 

 

“I wasn’t asking.” I could feel him tensing beside me.

 

“Why do I  _ need _ to be there?” my throat ached from the conversation. I brushed my cold fingers over the bruises, trying to soothe them.

 

He gestured to my hand at my neck. “’Cause of that. I’m keeping my investments safe. ‘Sides, people will expect you to be with me.”

 

“As arm candy? Jesus.” I stared out the window, fuming. I didn’t study to get through med school just to be paraded around like a showgirl. 

 

I didn’t want to learn any more than I already did about his business dealings. I didn’t want to be on the hook. I wanted off.

 

“Not as-” he cut off in an angry sigh, running his hand over his face. “I don’t got time to hold your hand through this.”

 

I rolled my eyes. I thought him holding my hand was the whole point of the plan.

 

“I don’t want to get any deeper into this than I already am. I want out, eventually.”

 

“You’re out when I say you are.”

 

I bit my lip. I  _ hated  _ this. I hated the power imbalance. I hated that he could lord his hold over me.

 

It was a silent drive back to the warehouse. 

 

He pulled up in front of his boys and I went to open my door, but his hand on the handle stopped me. He was leaning across me, invading my space, making my heart stop. I think I forgot how to breathe. He looked at me, pulled back a little so it wasn’t such an awkward positioning. He fit his hand into the crook of my neck, staring at the bruises peeking through the neck of my shirt, his thumb softly, brushing along the edge of my jaw, down my neck. It was almost hypnotic. I couldn’t remember why I was mad at him. 

 

Abruptly, he reached into the back of the car, and passed me a shopping bag, glossy pink. I smiled, thinking of him walking with the bag, in his all black getup, with his neck tattoos. 

 

“What’s this?”

 

His thumb  returned to tracing a path on my neck, but this time he was looking right into my eyes. “For tonight. The scrubs are hot, ma, but this,” he gestured to the bag, “makes more sense for where we’re going.” 

 

I flushed. “Where is that, exactly?”

 

“Club downtown.” I sighed. Clubs meant loud music, intoxicated people, overcrowding. A recipe for disaster. I bit my lip and nodded minutely. 

 

“Not a fan?” he drawled, quirking an eyebrow as he regarded me. I shrugged my shoulders, looking at my lap. “It’s just a lot of people. Drunk people tend to be overly touchy. That’s all.”

 

He nodded, his eyes still lingering on my neck. I pulled on my collar self-consciously. 

 

“Where to next?”

 

“Got some shit to deal with inside, then your place to change, then the club.” He winked and my heart skipped a beat. “That cool with you?” he asked sarcastically.

 

I glared at him as I pulled my textbook, settling in to study as he dealt with his business inside. 

 

He chuckled, low and throaty, as he got out of the car, walking with confidence. 

 

I sighed and returned to my book, continuing my reading on breech births when the passenger door opened abruptly, and I started. Rio was standing there, one hand on the roof of the car, the other loosely hanging over the top of the open door. “You need a special invitation or somethin’?” 

 

He pulled the book from my hands and then pulled me out of the car. Again, his strength surprised me and I stumbled into him. This time though, he didn’t let go of his hold on me, he kept me firmly in his grip, pressed against him. The book stayed between us. 

 

_ Thank god.  _

 

“What are y-” he pressed his nose to mine, cutting off my train of thought. My eyes shut of their own accord.

 

“Eyes everywhere, ma. ‘Sides, you don’t seem to mind.”

 

That broke the trance. I pulled away quickly, looking up at him, wrenching my textbook from his hands. “Maybe if you stopped  _ surprise-attacking _ me, I’d be…” I trailed off, not exactly sure where my rant was going. A smile played around the corners of his mouth. 

 

He pulled my hand into his and started walking towards the warehouse, dragging me behind him. I lengthened my stride to match his, so we could walk side-by-side. There was nothing worse than walking behind someone like a puppy dog. Our arms brushed against each other, and his grip on my hand tightened slightly, his thumb brushing against the back of my hand soothingly. 

 

He was messing with me. He wanted to see me flustered. 

 

I teemed with frustration as we walked through the warehouse, the workers again lifting their heads to stare at us,  _ me _ , as we passed by into his office. I returned to the worn armchair I’d sat in earlier and opened my book for the third time. Hopefully, I would learn something. More calls and computer work from Rio - it was almost peaceful being here in the room. I felt safer than I had this morning. The loud noises outside didn’t scare me anymore.

 

Okay, they still scared me. But I no longer flinched when a machine clanged. Small victories.

 

It was dark by the time we left, and I was reluctant to relinquish my armchair. 

 

The walk to the car was quick, the ride to my house silent. Not angry, just comfortable. It occurred to me that I never actually gave him my address. I couldn’t find it in myself to mind.

 

We walked in and I gestured to the kitchen, “Want anything?”

 

“Nah, ma, just need you to get this on and we can get out of here.” He tossed me the glossy pink bag. I went to my room and pulled out the slinky material.

 

_ He could not be serious. _

 

It was a turtleneck, to conceal my bruises, but that was the only conservative part of the dress. It was too short, sleeveless, with sheer netting across the upper chest and midriff. It was basically lingerie with a collar. 

 

I laughed, half in horror, before stuffing the dress back into the bag and turning to my closet. I pulled out a more PC number, still turtleneck, a calf length, pencil dress. I walked back out, tossing him the glossy pink bag, scowling. 

 

He smiled as his eyes roamed down and back up my body and I fought the urge to cross my arms across my chest. “It didn’t fit.” I said, gesturing to the bag in his hands. 

 

“Also,” I slung on some heels, “it looked ridiculous.” His brow furrowed before he dug into the bag, pulling out the dress, unfurling the monstrosity between us. Confusion for one more second, and then he was throwing back his head and laughing. “Damn,” he said, smiling. “She’s a laugh.” He followed me to the door.

 

“Who is?” I called over my shoulder, in what I hoped was a nonchalant voice. He had a  _ she _ in his life. It was sobering to think about. It reminded me that when he touched me, when he looked at me, it was part of an act. I was the one who was overlaying it with meaning. I needed to stop. I needed to distance myself from him.

 

“She’s a contact. Angela. Angel.”

 

_ Angel. Like from heaven. _

  
Message received. Loud and clear. Not  _ just _ some contact. She was his contact. Read: she was his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for your support on chapter 1 - getting feedback and kudos pushed me to post this second chapter as soon as I could :)  
> again - any thoughts, ideas, criticisms, what have you, would be lovely!


	3. Chapter 3

We pulled up in front of the club, as the silence between us continued to mount. As we walked, Rio pulled me into his side, his hand fitting onto my waist perfectly. I told my heart to calm down. 

The bouncer was huge and held up a hand before we reached the door.

“Pat down policy.” he barked gruffly. Rio extricated himself from me and stood still, arms wide, feet planted. Confidence. The bouncer pat him down quickly, and finding nothing, gestured for me to come forward.

I stepped up, feeling sweaty. I did not want this stranger touching me.

I stared at the ground as I felt his hands moving along my arms, my sides, down my legs, back up again, this time more slowly. I bit my cheek.  _ Just a few more seconds and then it’s over. _ The bouncer’s hands paused at my hips, slowly moving backwards towards my rear. My eyes flashed to the bouncer and just as I was about to push him away, Rio called out. 

“‘Aight, that’s enough.” his voice was low and dangerous. He walked over and pulled me from the bouncer’s grip, and I slotted my arm around his torso, pulling myself in closer to him, away from the touchy bouncer. I turned and hissed in his ear as we walked in. “This is why I hate clubs.” 

He responded by pulling me even tighter against him, but I didn’t mind. 

_ Angel. _ A voice in the back of my head reminded me. 

Fuck. Me.

I took a breath in.  _ This is just an act. _ It’s just a charade. It doesn’t mean anything to him. The longer I lie to myself, the harder it’s going to be when he eventually figures it out. 

Just then, something pinched my bum, hard enough to cause pain. 

I yelped and spun around, but no one was there. Rio’s grip on me loosened as I scanned the crowd for the culprit. The club wasn’t too shabby, it was actually quite sleek with leather couches, and semi-private booths, mirrors everywhere. The clientele was also rather suave. But apparently not above pinching bums.

“What is it?” he murmured, pulling me back to him, close into his side.  _ I could get used to this. _

I re-wrapped my arm around him. “Someone  _ pinched _ me.” 

He laughed incredulously. “Someone pinched you?”

I nodded vehemently. “Yeah, like this.” I reached my hand down and pinched his backside, quick and sharp, quickly returning to my original position around his torso. He started but kept walking, still laughing. His fingers inched up from my waist, grazing my rib cage, running softly back and forth before I realized he was trying to tickle me. “Not gonna work,” I sing-songed in his ear.

He turned to me as we walked, his nose tickling my ear, his breath ghosting across my cheek. “What, you ain’t ticklish?” 

“Not there.”

“Where, then?” 

I opened my mouth to respond but we were stopped by someone. A very pretty someone. She was tall (taller than me), sleek, dressed impeccably. Rio greeted her. “Angel,” he drawled. 

_ This was Angel?  _

_ Double fuck me.  _

I could not compete with this. She oozed sex. 

I stared up at Rio ( _ longingly _ ), and he had a slight smile on his lips as he looked at her. The muscle in his jaw jumped.

She laughed lightly, nodding her head at him. “How are you?” she asked, her hand already on the elbow of his unoccupied arm.  _ She was his. He was hers. _ I pulled myself away from Rio, disentangled our limbs, my face burning. It felt stupid to keep up this charade when he was so obviously had feelings for Angel. Mutual feelings.

_ I wonder what that’s like. _

I was almost free when he grabbed at my fingers, pulling me back to him, and at the same time, stepping backward and out of Angel’s touch. “Can’t complain, I have this woman to keep me good,” he pulled my hand up to his mouth, kissed the knuckle of my thumb.

I swooned.

She turned to me, reluctantly, eyeing me up and down. “You didn’t like the dress I chose?” she purred. I blushed as I remembered the slinky piece she’s chosen, remembered the way Rio had laughed when he saw it.  _ Why _ did he laugh? Was the idea of me in that dress so hilarious? Maybe I didn’t ooze sex appeal, but I wasn’t that bad. Maybe, I could have pulled it off. 

I scoffed internally. 

I definitely could not have pulled off that look.

I shook my head at her, “It didn’t fit, sorry.”

I felt Rio’s lips at my ear again, and blushed, thinking about how we looked to Angel. Plastered together, side by side, arms wrapped around each other, his head dipped towards mine. “You’re forgetting how the dress looked, to quote you ‘ridiculous’.”

She laughed, a soft tinkling sound, delicate. “No worries,” she smiled at Rio, winked at him, “I was interested in seeing the lucky girl that has Rio wrapped around her finger.”

I coughed, choked a little. “I don’t have him-, it’s not like…” I took a shuddering breath, trying to calm the blush that spread across my cheeks, failing miserably, as I felt him shift beside me, pulling me, impossibly, closer to his side. I felt his throaty chuckle reverberate through his chest, into my back.

Her smile tightened, and she laughed, “I don’t know about that. He looks pretty smitten. I’ve never seen this man like this,” she ran a hand over his shoulder, down his arm, “not even when we were together.”

I froze.

He stiffened.

She smiled sweetly.

_ I knew it. _

She continued, in faux shock, “You didn’t know about Rio and I? We’ve been on and off, for oh, I don’t know, almost 3 years now, isn’t it? He’s a sweetheart, love, you’re lucky to have him. Well, atleast for now, I might have to steal him back from you!” She laughed, placed a finger on her chin as if in thought. “I must say, this softer side of him is just...delicious.” She licked her lips at that, which I thought was a bit much, but at the same time, very seductive. Rio was still a stiff board beside me. 

There was something  _ familiar _ about her, the way she spoke.

“We gotta go.” he said abruptly. 

“See you later, Rio.” she winked at him before turning to me, “You too, love.”

I nodded and let Rio pull me along. He steered us towards a booth, sitting and pulling me close to him so that the other half lay starkly empty. I felt him shift so his arm ran along the back of the seat. 

“Gotta keep up the charade, huh?” I muttered darkly. I felt like I was going to cry, which would be beyond embarrassing. I bit my lip, kept my head down, looking at my lap. To distract myself, I pulled out my phone, flipped to the textbook app and found my page on C-sections, finally finished with breech deliveries. I had just finished going over the anatomy when I heard Rio chuckling beside me. “What?” I said, not taking my eyes off the diagram in front of me, trying to commit it to memory.

“You don’t stop, huh?” 

He plucked the phone from my grasp and slid it into his pants pocket. He grabbed my legs and swung me towards him, hooking my legs over one of his so that I was practically in his lap. His hand stayed wrapped around my thigh, holding me in place. My heart was now in my stomach, going through palpitations. I couldn’t breathe.

I pulled on the collar of his button up and he angled his head towards mine. Tonight was full of whispers.

“What are you doing?” I asked. 

“No one’s going to buy this,” he squeezed my thigh, “if we don’t sell it.” And with that, he nuzzled his face past my ear into the crook of my neck. My breath caught.

_ How do you breathe, again? I can’t remember. _

He was careful of the bruises hidden beneath my collar, but still kept his face buried in my neck. My hand found its way to his chest. It stayed there for a second, and he was so warm.

_ This was too much. I was going to go into cardiac arrest. _

_ He doesn’t feel the same way. This is an act. You’re going to break your own damn heart.  _

I needed space from him. Before I fell completely head-over-heels. 

My fingers trembled for a second before I pushed him back and away. “Give me a second.”  _ I need to remember how to breathe.  _ I gasped, my breath coming in small spurts. I leaned into him, this time resting my forehead on the crook of his neck, pulling his hand from my thigh into my lap, tracing imaginary patterns on his palm. His other hand moved to my back, rubbing it soothingly as my breathing returned to normal.

“Damn, darlin’, there are other ways I can make you breathless.” he murmured, his voice dripping with innuendo.

_ He knows. _

My cheeks burned with humiliation, my hand stilled above his. “It’s just us here,” I hissed. “No one can hear you, so you can drop the act.”

_ How did he unhinge me so quickly? _

I continued. “You know, you never really explained why this ‘relationship’ was necessary. How exactly is it helping us?”

He pulled my hand back into his and was just opening his mouth to speak when a man slid into the booth with us. Instead of sitting opposite to us, he scooted over until the three of us were sitting side by side. I extricated my legs from Rio’s, but kept his hand in mine. 

The man was larger than I’d expected. Less put together than Rio. No tattoos. Scraggy beard. The way he looked at me felt lewd. He stared too long at the collar of my dress. I moved deeper into Rio’s side.

He nodded in greeting at Rio, his eyes flicking away and returning back to me within a second. “I’m Craig,” he said, sticking his hand out. I didn’t want to touch his hand. But I had to. For Rio.  _ Damn him. _

I held his hand gingerly, briefly, quickly pulling away. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing with a dud like him?” he winked at Rio. I cringed at the wording and shrugged my shoulders, feeling Rio against my back. “He’s pretty nice to me.” My throat ached. “Damn, that’s a sexy voice.” he murmured, and I pushed backwards into Rio to get away from Craig, aka creepy man. Rio’s arm wrapped around my stomach, marking me as his, his chin at my ear. “I just- I have a sore throat.” I muttered, wanting this conversation over. “Oh yeah?” said Craig, and quick as a cat, his fingers were at my neck, “It’s a pretty throat,” he said, drawing his fingers downward, pulling my turtleneck down, revealing the bruises underneath. His fingers stilled for a moment, and I pushed his hand away from me. “Don’t touch me,” I hissed. He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Damn,” he looked at Rio, “I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff, man.” He gestured at my neck. I felt Rio stiffen behind me, his arm on my stomach taut. “Rio would never hurt me.” I snapped back, forgetting the ache in my throat. It surprised me how confident I was in my words. How did I go from being scared of a crime boss to feeling completely at ease in his presence? Okay, maybe I wasn’t at ease. He kept giving my heart and lungs a workout just by being close to me. Yet, I felt safe with him. 

“Let’s just cut to the business part of this meeting, yeah?” Rio was pissed. Rio pulled me up and over his lap, and settled me on the other side of him. Putting himself between me and Craig.  _ Thank god.  _

They started talking to each other quickly, arguing over who got a cut, how much of a cut, who was going to do the drop, it droned on and on. With hesitant fingers, I pulled at my phone from Rio’s back pocket. He lifted his bum to allow me access, and I grabbed the phone from him, quickly. His hand was on my bare knee, tracing patterns, tickling me.  _ Damn him, he was persistent, he’d found my ticklish spot _ . I slapped his hand away and opened up my textbook app. C-sections. Interesting stuff. His hand was back at my knee, still tickling me. I pulled his hand into mine, intertwining our fingers so he couldn’t distract me anymore. A half hour passed and finally, their meeting concluded. 

Craig left without a word to me, thank god. Rio pulled his hand from mine, scooted it behind my back. “Home?” I asked, turning to him, tired from the days events.

He nodded, dropped a kiss to my forehead. “Yeah, sweetheart, let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kudos and comments keep me going! It's so nice to know that people are reading my works, and somehow liking them too! Thank you, thank you and please, keep letting me know your thoughts :)


	4. Chapter 4

It was hard to believe that the attack had only happened last night, that the bruises on my neck were fresh instead of weeks old. So much had happened since then. I think my heart had broken and mended itself at least five times over. 

I hated how convincing he was.

_He never explained why this fake relationship was necessary._

I appreciated the protection, but I could do without the closeness, the constant physical contact tethering us to each other - it hurt my chest, it gave me whiplash. 

I couldn’t help but want it to be real, and that was going to just hurt me even more later on. 

We walked to the car quickly, the cool air of the night felt wonderful against my clammy skin. When I moved to open my door, Rio grabbed my hand, twirling me so that my back landed against the door. His hands came up on either side of me, braced against the hood of the car. Trapped again.

I stared at him, trying to keep my breathing normal, even as the space between us seemed to be rapidly diminishing. 

He dipped his head toward mine, his nose just a hair away from mine, his mouth too close to mine.

My heart was sputtering.

“I want to piss ‘em off.” His voice was low. Guttural. I should’ve been scared. He continued, “That person who hurt you? I want ‘em to see me with you and get angry. I want ‘em angry enough to do something stupid, and then-,” he pushed even closer to me before continuing, “I’ma take care of them.”

“That’s why,” he pushed his nose against mine, his mouth just a whisper away, his breath ghosting over my lips, and my heart was dying and he said, “this is necessary.”

My chest dropped out.

_No._

“ _That’s your plan?”_ I whisper-shouted. “You want to goad them into coming back? You want to use me as _bait_ ?” My heart was thudding in my chest, but this time it wasn’t because of his closeness. _How could I have been so stupid?_ Of course this was his plan. I was just too blinded by the glitter of feeling attached to him to question it. My head swiveled to the sides, and I was overcome with the feeling that we were being watched. My breath came in little spurts.

Was this what a panic attack felt like? I felt a sudden rush of sympathy for my patients.

His hands dropped from the hood of the car onto my shoulders, slid down my arms until they lightly circle my wrists. A quick squeeze. “Hey. What’d I say? You’re under my protection. She’s ain’t gonna get close.”

I hated him.

My voice was ice. “I want to go home.”

The ride home was quiet, tense. 

When we got to my apartment, he pulled the keys from my hands, twirling them around his finger as he sauntered ahead of me, his other hand pulling me behind him. He had an air of playfulness, but I could see his eyes taking in the surroundings, and there was a bulge at the side of his hip that wasn’t there before. 

We reached my front door and after a quick look down the hallway, he opened the door to my home. 

“Me first, yeah?” he looked down at me, his eyes serious now. Somehow his golden gun was out, and I wanted to put as much space as possible between me and it. Sure, he could have a look around. The apartment wasn’t that big anyways.

I stood rooted in place, my back to the door, eyes following Rio as he walked through the tiny living room, taking in the many pairs of scrubs laying on the armchair, the textbooks on the coffee table. His mouth lifted into a half smile, which quickly disappeared as he walked into the kitchen, stopping as he saw the broken glass on the floor. He lifted his eyes to mine, questioning.

“It’s from last night.” My stupid voice was trembling. This morning, when I finally woke after the attack, I found myself slumped on the kitchen floor, the shattered glass in front of me. But I couldn’t bring myself to clean it up. I got out as quickly as I could, and scrambled back to my bedroom, my breath coming in spurts, my chest heaving as panic overwhelmed me. I knew she was gone, yet I could shake the terror I felt. 

I still felt it. Frightened. By my own kitchen.

_Fuck her._

I hated her. Hated that she made me feel scared in my own home. 

A furrow between his eyebrows appeared when he heard my voice, and he looked at me, stared at me, eyes locked like he was deciding something. He nodded, mostly to himself, and then left the kitchen, popping his head into the washroom at the end of the hall, and then finally, letting himself into my bedroom.

I could imagine what he’d find in there. An otherwise clean room, no messy clothes, desk clear of clutter, a cozy couch, and my bed, the one stark contrast. The covers were not nicely laid out like they were every other day. Instead, they were twisted and balled up, creating a little cocoon where I had my breakdown this morning. I pressed my eyes shut, and leaned against the door.

_She’s not here. She won’t come back. She can’t. She wouldn’t._

_Rio is here._  

A pause.

Rio is here, in my house. 

If she’d been watching me, she would have seen Rio and I at the club, cozying up to each other. She could have followed us home. She would have seen us enter the apartment together. 

_Oh god._

I flashed back to how Rio draped my legs over his, how his hand gripped my thigh, and now we were home alone. How would it look to her? It would look like she was right. It would look like Rio and I were….

I couldn’t breathe. I crossed my arms, pressed them into my stomach, trying to calm myself. 

_She would come back. She’ll think that her attack pushed us even closer together. If she thought we were having sex before, now, well - I didn’t know what she’d be thinking._ My breath was coming in raggard spurts now, and I pulled my arms even tighter against myself, hugging my torso, trying to calm myself. _She’s going to come back._

Roi came back out of my room, his eyes on his phone, and when he finished his text, he looked up at me, took in my face, and he blinked, his jaw stiffening. 

He came closer, and his hand wrapped around my elbow, and he turned back pulling me with him. “Come on’” His voice was quiet, dangerous almost. We got to the door of my bedroom, and I stopped us. He turned back, his eyebrows raised. “It’s empty darlin’. No one here but the two of us.” 

I shook my head, my eyes stuck to my bed where the sheets were perfectly smooth, the pillows plumped, like in a hotel. 

“I didn’t,” my voice was shaking and I took a breath to steady myself, my hands braced on the doorframe, ready to bolt, “I didn’t make my bed this morning.”

His eyes scanned the apartment over my head. “What, you sayin’ she came back?”

“I don’t know Rio! We should go. We should leave. Please, Rio.” My hands had somehow found their way to the front of his jacket, and I was pulling on it, pulling him closer to me.

We had to leave. She could come back. She could still be here, hiding.

His hands smoothed down my arms, encircled my wrists, and softly pulled my hands away from his jacket. “Oh sweetheart,” he smiled as he looked down at me, “we ain’t going anywhere.”

When I opened my mouth to argue, he continued speaking. “Best bet is that she won’t come back. And if she does, it’s better to be here, where I know the layout. It’s a small space,” he chuckled when he saw my eyes narrow at his poke at my apartment, “which means that there are only a few ways she can get to you. Fewer entrances makes my job a whole lot easier.”

I hated him. His logic made annoyingly good sense. 

“I don’t like it.”

I pulled my hands from his and stalked into my bedroom, yanking open the wardrobe with a bit too much force, and pulled my most conservative set of PJs. I pointed to the couch that just barely fit into the corner of my room. “You can sleep there.” I surveyed my the rest of my pajamas, all of them pink, and probably too small to fit him. “Sorry, I don’t have any PJs for you.” He raised his eyebrows as he saw the clothing selection and barked out a laugh, “Nah, ma, I’m good. You sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” He sank into the couch, and immediately focused on his phone, texting business associates most likely.

I needed to change my clothes.

But I was scared to venture into the rest of the apartment by myself.

I didn’t want to pass the kitchen. I didn’t want to go into the bathroom by myself, or pass the hallway closet. The only safe place was... with him.

I stepped into the corner of the room, just out of his eyesight. “Don’t look.” I called out. 

I changed as quickly as I could.

Baggy shirt and baggy pants. 

Everything left to the imagination.

If he so chose.

Rio’s eyes didn’t wander from his phone’s screen.

I jumped into bed, pulled the sheets up to my chin.

I turned onto my side, looked at him, so intent on his phone. 

“Rio,” I whispered. He glanced up at me, his eyes boring into mine. “Yeah?”

“What if your plan doesn’t work? What if she sees us together, but she doesn’t come for me? What then?”

His lips pressed into a thin line before he responded. “Oh, sweetheart. I’mma make sure she comes for you.”

I closed my eyes, and turned onto my other side.

_That wasn’t much of an answer._

I pulled the sheets closer to me and focused on my breathing, and not the fact that a man, whom I was very much falling for, was seated on my crappy couch, in my _bedroom._

I woke up in the middle of the night, my throat feeling parched. I stayed still for a moment. _Was Rio still awake?_ I opened my eyes slowly and saw the light from his phone screen reflected onto the ceiling. He was still up. 

I had morning breath.

I couldn _not_ talk to Rio with bad breath. 

His voice cut through my thoughts. “You okay?”

I pushed myself into a seated position, felt a wave of dizzyness at the sudden movement and leaned against the headboard. He was in the exact same position I’d left him in. Still seated on the couch, hunched over his phone. His eyes were up though, boring into mine.

“Aren’t you tired?” I asked, my voice raw.

He stood up then, walked over to me. Sat on the edge of my bed, his leg against mine.

My heart skipped a beat. 

He reached out a hand, brushed it over the bruises on my neck. I shivered at his touch. I should be used to it by now. I’d held his hand for the majority of the day. Yet somehow, everytime, it felt electric.

His voice was low as he whispered, “Darlin’ Dr. Aysha. Shouldn’t you have ice on this or somethin’?”

I smiled at my name on his lips. It was the first time he’d said it. 

He wasn’t wrong. I should probably be drinking more fluids. Icing my throat to help with the swelling. Not talking so much.

I nodded into his hand. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be getting attached. This was an act for him. That was all.

He and I were different. Insurmountably so. 

But I couldn’t help it. I liked that he was different. I liked his confidence. His ease. His _intelligence._  

He pulled his hand away, as if he could read my thoughts, and wanted to let me know he didn’t reciprocate my feelings.

He strode out of the room, pulling off his jacket and throwing it onto the couch.

Black t shirt under a black jacket. Very creative. 

He came back with a towel and a glass of water. He handed me the water and I smiled at him as I took tiny sips, wincing as the water made its way down my battered throat. When I finished, he handed me the towel. It was cold and wet. I settled back onto my pillows as he walked back to the couch. I placed the wet compress over my throat, sighing at the relief it gave me. 

He took up his old position. Hunched over his phone.

“Rio?” my voice sounded a little bit less hoarse. He looked up again. “You should sleep.”

He smirked. “You want me in your bed, all you gotta do is ask, ma’.”

I felt my face heat up. Stupid blushing. What a stupid physiological repsonse. Completely unnecessary. 

I shook my head vigorously. “No!” I took a deep breath. “No. You sleep on the couch. There’s some blankets in the closet.” I turned and plucked one of the many pillows from my bed. “Here’s a pillow.” I bit my lip, feeling badly. “Sorry, I should have given it to you earlier. I was just…” I took a breath and pulled my covers a little higher up, my face almost hidden. “I was distracted. Sorry.”

He smiled, looked at the floor, hiding his face from mine. He pulled the blankets from the closet and turned away from me. I didn’t have a chance to wonder at his positioning before he pulled off his black t-shirt. I saw his back, saw the lean muscles stretch and pull as he threw his shirt onto the arm of the couch. And then I felt like a creep and pulled the covers all the way up over my head so I couldn’t see anything else. I heard the sound of more clothes getting discarded and wondered if he was banking on sleeping in the nude. _On my couch?! Oh god, please no._

I called out from under the covers. “Are you naked?” my voice was incredulous and quivery at the same time. 

“Nah, mama.” he chuckled, and I heard the sound of him settling into the couch. “What, you want me to be?”

“Rio, you have to stop with the innuendos.”

“Darlin’ you make it too easy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a year and a half to post this next chapter! My muse had left me :(  
> Thank you to everyone who's read this work and left kudos or comments, it warms my heart to think people enjoyed it! Honestly, knowing that someone was reading this work was what pushed me to crank out this chapter.  
> As always, I'd love to know your thoughts!


	5. Chapter 5

I awoke early in the morning, the clock on my bedside showing it was 5AM. My usual. I glanced at the couch where Rio was sprawled. The blanket had slid down his torso during the night, leaving his chest and part of his stomach exposed. My chest dropped and I looked away quickly. Maybe I would buy him some PJs. If this was going to become a habit. Him sleeping over. 

I could get used to it. Even now, the terror I felt yesterday had vastly subsided, no doubt thanks to this sleeping man.

“Yo.” his voice was rough, and deeper than usual. I turned back to look at him, thankful that  _ I _ at least had some clothes on. I could already feel my cheeks warming as I tried to keep my eyes on his face rather than his exposed skin. His mouth pulled up on one side, a half smile, as he looked at me through hooded eyes. 

“Hi,” I said, but no sound came out.  _ Oh no. _ No, no, no. My hand went to my throat, and I tried to speak again, louder. It came out as a whisper. My voice was gone.

His half-smile became a full-on grin as I kept trying to speak and sound didn’t come out. 

“ _ Rio” _ , I mouthed. 

He raised his eyebrows at me, trying to quiet his laughter.

_ “Do not laugh at me. _ ”

He pressed his lips together, his shoulders shaking. I’d never seen him like this before. He seemed less imposing. I threw a pillow at him. 

He looked shocked for a moment, before his grin was back.

“You gonna call in sick to work today?”

“ _ Guess I have to. _ ” 

He stretched his arms out before tucking them behind his neck. He knew exactly what he was doing. He might as well be posing. The self-satisfied smirk was a dead give away. He was playing me. 

I rolled my eyes and crawled out of bed. “ _ Coffee? Or shower? _ ” I whispered.

He got up as well, pulling his black shirt on again. He was in his boxers. 

Boxers.

Fuck.

His legs were muscled too. Everything on him was muscled. 

Goddamn. 

I steadfastly stared at the hem of my shirt, refusing to look at him.

His voice was raspy, “Coffee. Please.” He followed close behind me as we walked to the kitchen. I felt his breath on my neck. I turned the coffee machine on, and he leaned across the counter, staring at me.

I pulled cups, creamer and milk from the fridge, all the while feeling his eyes on me. “ _ What?” _

My cheeks heated as he stared at me for a second longer before pulling a cup towards him, a smile playing on his lips as he looked at the cup, shrugged his shoulders. “Nothin’ ma.”

I rolled my eyes. 

“ _ Well, I’m going to shower, help yourself to anything.”  _

He nodded.

My heart kept dropping when he looked at me.

As the hot water from the shower cascaded over my shoulders, I thought about how I needed to learn to play it cool. Every other look he gave me wasn’t loaded with meaning, that was just my hyperactive imagination. I needed to relax if I was going to get out of this unscathed. He already knew I had a weakness for him. I didn’t want him to be able to exploit it.

He wasn’t sadistic, I knew that. But he liked his games. For him, seeing me squirm was just poking fun at me. He didn’t know how deep my feelings ran.

I couldn’t let him figure it out.

I quickly wrapped a towel around myself and scurried to my room. I was excited about not wearing scrubs today- they were comfy, but not the most flattering clothes I owned. 

As I reached for the knob to open the door to my room, it opened from the inside. I scrambled backwards a few steps, my heart pounding in fear, before the door opened wide enough to reveal Rio on the other side. A sigh of relief swept out of me. But my heart continued to hammer against my ribcage.

My mouth quivered for a second before I was able to form the words. “ _ You gave me a heart attack.” _

He continued to stare at me. Or rather, my neck. 

He cleared his throat. “I just needed this,” he gestured to the phone in his hand. “Your heart okay now, sweetheart?” he spoke sarcastically, a hard set to his jaw.

I wrapped the towel tighter around me, conscious of the fact that I was almost naked. 

Do  _ not _ blush.

My lack of clothes didn’t seem to have the same effect on him as his boxer sleep ensemble had on me, earlier this morning. I couldn’t even look him in the eye, and here he was, staring me down. Angrily.

“ _ What’s wrong?” _

His eyes flipped down to my neck then back up to my face. A quick shake of his head. “Nothin’,” he grunted, trying to slip past me into the hallway. 

I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed his hand before he could get past me. The hallway was narrow, it wasn’t meant for two people. His back was to one side of the hallway, my back to the other side. It reminded me of the closet yesterday. Oxygen suddenly seemed scarce. He pulled his hand from mine, stuffed it in his pockets as he stared down at me. He quirked an eyebrow. There was maybe a foot of space between us.

He didn’t seem perturbed by that fact.

Yesterday really was an act. He was talented. He should get into show biz.

I bit my lip. 

It was an act for him.

It wasn’t an act for me.

The muscle in his jaw was now jumping, his lips a thin hard line. 

“ _ Did I do something?”  _ my throat ached as I whispered. 

His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion or anger, I didn’t know. “What? No, fuck no. That’s not-,” he huffed out an angry breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, before grabbing my hand and slapping a piece of paper in it. “This,” he pointed to the paper, “is what’s pissin’ me off. Found it by my phone.”

I unfolded the crumpled paper carefully. A spidery script was scrawled over the paper, the ink smudged. 

 

**_I am going to kill her. You belong with me. Only me._ **

 

I felt goosebumps blossom over my skin, felt my heart hammer in my chest. I looked up at him, feeling scared all over again.

“ _ She was here. Again.” _

He nodded, looking away from me. I crossed my arms tighter against my stomach, trying to stifle the sudden nausea that overtook me. I took in a shuddering breath. “ _ We should leave.” _ He nodded. My breaths were coming in little gasps now, and my chest was constricting tighter, every beat of my heart felt like it was shaking my ribs. 

Gasp. gasp. Gasp.

Oh god.

She was here. This wasn’t stopping.

Gasp.

And then, his hands were on me, on my shoulders, soothing down my arms. “Hey,” he murmured in a low voice, “I ain’t goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.” I nodded and he continued, “Go get changed, I’ll meet you out front.” 

He turned again to walk down the hallway. Again, I grabbed his arm. “ _ Can you stay? Please?”  _ I felt safe around him. The idea that she had come back, had had the chance to surprise us but instead chose to taunt us was terrifying to me. I needed him.

He stopped resisting and let me pull him into the room with me. “ _ Don’t look. _ ” I instructed and he rolled his eyes, smirking at me, and went to the couch, making a show of looking only at his phone. 

I crept to the corner of the room and towelled off quickly, pulling on my clothes, not caring anymore about how flattering they were. She was here. She was in my room. She wanted me dead. That last thought was sobering. I grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and pushed in a bunch of clothes. I walked up to Rio, nudged his leg with my foot. He looked up at me, before he zeroed in on the duffel bag in my hands. “Going somewhere?” 

“ _ I don’t want to stay here. I can crash at a friend’s for a couple days.” _

He stood up, an inch of space between us, as he towered over me. He pulled the bag from me, his fingers barely brushing mine. My heart stuttered. 

“Nah, you’re stayin’ with me.” His voice was soft and low, no longer angry, I looked up at him, my neck aching, and he stared down at me, his face serious. He swallowed, and I watched the tattoos across his throat dance. He looked past me, at the wall behind me, breaking our eye contact. He continued, “I have a few places ‘cross town. They’re safe. We can go there, yeah?”

I nodded. We quickly grabbed the essentials - textbooks, of course - and left. As we walked to the car, he looped his free arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. A sigh of relief left me. 

The act was back on.

Being this close to him made me feel safe, though my heart continued to pound in my chest, for different reasons this time. He was solid and warm, his arm around me strong. 

The car ride to the factory was quiet. I couldn’t help but steal glances at him. He looked uncharacteristically serious. When we parked, I turned to him. “ _ You okay?” _ he nodded, looking past me. “ _ You can’t even look at me.”  _

His eyes flashed down to mine, angry again. He ran a hand through his short hair, his eyes closed as if he was centring himself. His jaw jumped.

Why was he so angry?

His eyes opened and he stared at my neck again, and instinctively, self-consciously I pulled up on the collar of my turtleneck. 

“You can’t even talk.”

“ _ Why does that make you so angry with me?”  _

He reached for me, fitted his hand into the side of my neck softly, his thumb brushing the edge of my jaw. My lips trembled. My hands trembled. My heart stuttered.

“It’s my fault.”

I couldn’t help myself from leaning into his touch. “ _ No, it’s not. _ ” His thumb stilled at the soft spot in the corner of my jaw. “ _ I don’t blame you. _ ”

He nodded, his eyes darting back to mine and away, and he shifted backwards, away from me, getting out of the car. I followed suit, trying to calm the pounding in my chest, the blush creeping up my cheeks. 

Again, he pulled me into his side, and I slotted my arm around his back. 

Though the factory was loud, the quiet inside the office was unbearable. It was just the two of us and yet, I felt stifled. Like there wasn’t enough space for us both to exist in the small office.

I kept peeking at him over the top of my textbook. The day dragged on, unbearably slow.

He didn’t look up from his laptop.

He really didn’t feel the same way I did. 

God.

A tattooed hand on my book. I looked up with a start, and Rio stared down at me.  

“You’re not even reading this.” He tugged the textbook from my hands, placed it on his desk. He leaned on the edge, arms crossed, staring at me.

Thinking.

He walked to the door and tilted his head toward the factory floor. “Follow me,” he murmured.

The space between us felt charged as we walked out of his office into the view of his workers. He pulled my hand into his, and walked us down a maze of hallways until we came to a huge empty room. The walls and floor were cement, with light streaming in through small windows close to the ceiling. It was cold and musty.

I shivered and stood in the center of the room as he walked to a corner and reached into a crate I hadn’t noticed before.  He pulled a beer bottle out, offered it to me. “You want one?” I shook my head. I was already too obvious when I was around him. I didn’t need alcohol to loosen my inhibitions and show him how I felt. I couldn’t be trusted. 

“Can’t lose control, huh, ma’?” he murmured, as he opened the bottle and tipped it towards his mouth, took a sip. 

What an asshole.

I stalked over and grabbed the bottle out of his hand, tipped the rest of its contents down my throat, wincing as it singed its way down my sore throat. When it was empty, I pushed the bottle into his chest. As his hand came up to hold the bottle, his fingers brushed mine and a wave of heat settled over my face and chest.

“ _ What are we doing here?” _

He walked over to the far wall and placed the empty bottle on a folding table. 

He came back to me quickly, and I could feel the warm heady heat of the alcohol spreading through my system, leaving my fingers and toes warm. I wasn’t drunk, I wasn’t even buzzed. But I felt content.

He was back in front of me. With that stupid gold gun in his hand. He had the handle extended toward me. I felt my forehead crease when I realized what he meant and took an automatic step backwards, shaking my head. I felt my back press against a cement pillar, the cool stone sending shivers down my spine. “ _ I can’t. Rio, I can’t.” _

“Not if you don’t try. It’s easy, here.” he pushed the gun into my hands, wrapped my fingers around it. Pressed them into place, pulled my arms up, and I felt goosebumps erupt where his hands touched me.

“You just gotta point and shoot, sweetheart.”

He shifted and I felt his chest against my back, his arms along mine, his breath on my neck. 

I became a statue.

He turned his face towards mine and I felt his nose graze my cheek. “Come on, ma. Show me you can handle yourself.” he murmured, his breath warm on my skin.

I was sweating. Trembling. I didn’t want to do this. I did  _ not _ want this. My breath came in spurts, and I felt like I was on the verge of a panic attack. 

“Relax,” the word ghosted over my neck. His arms were still aligned with mine.

“Breathe. And pull the trigger.” his finger slipped over mine, a small movement, and the bottle in front of us shattered. 

This wasn’t me.

I let go of the breath I didn’t know I was holding, and felt myself sag into his chest. With shaking fingers, I clicked the safety off, and pulled away from him. I turned to face him, and he was staring at me, his brow furrowed. I held the gun out to him, handle first, and he took it from me. Slowly, his eyes never straying from mine. “ _ I don’t want this. I can’t.”  _ I bit my lip. 

A muscle in his jaw jumped, and he took a breath, looking away from me. Angry. “Yeah? And what happens when someone comes at you, what you gonna do then, huh?” 

I shook my head. Crossed my arms in front of me, trying to stop myself from shaking. Shrugged my shoulders.

“ _ I don’t know.” _

“You gonna just let them hurt you, that it?” his voice was raising, and I flinched at his anger. I’d never felt it directed at me before. I hated how he was looking at me, his eyes fiery.

“ _ Rio.” _

“You need to learn, darlin’.”

“ _ Not this way.” _

“Goddamnit women, I’m tryin’ to keep you alive.” His voice was low, velvet, dangerous.

I couldn’t look at him anymore, couldn’t take his angry eyes piercing me. I stared at the floor. I felt tears welling in my eyes. I hated this. I hated her, whoever she was, for doing this to me. Hated that I was in this position, nerves frayed, always on edge. I didn’t want to lose myself to this. I didn’t want to have to change because she scared me. I shook my head, forced myself to look at him. “ _ I can’t Rio, I won’t _ .” I tried to steady my jaw, stop my chin from trembling.

His eyes flashed.

And I left. 

I heard him yell out behind me. “Ma, we ain’t done.” His footsteps echoed behind mine as I stalked through the exit into the empty corridor. How did we get here?

The further in I walked, the more unsure I became. My steps faltered and I heard him catch up to me. Felt his fingers graze my hand. I kept my gaze ahead, I couldn’t look at him. Felt his hand move up my arm to my shoulder, spin me around to face him.

His hand kept moving, up and over my shoulder, to cradle my neck. I felt his thumb on my cheek and realized one of my traitorous tears had broken free. I stilled under his touch.

“Aysha.”

“ _ I can’t.” _

He stared at me for a moment and nodded. “Okay. It’s alright. It’s okay.” His voice was soft, and low, like I might bolt at any moment.

His hand slipped from my neck and he pulled my fingers into his palm. “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this took me a time and a half to write, it's hard when GG isn't on air! Hope you all like it <3 lmk what you think, all comments welcome, positive and critical :)
> 
> also - italics refer to whispered speech!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N - my first Good Girls fic! please let me know your thoughts, opinions, constructive criticisms :) I obviously live for Brio but this fic wouldn't get out of my head!


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